


Sweet Sister

by kathkin



Series: Summerpornathon 2014 [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Chastity Device, Community: summerpornathon, F/F, Incest, So Dirty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:52:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2268711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“My sweet sister. My sweet. Sing for me.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Sister

**Author's Note:**

> For Challenge 4 at summerpornathon: Tropesmash.
> 
> Tropes: chastity devices, incest, object insertion.

Morgana’s cloak whispered over the damp grass as she approached the cave. Light emanated softly from within. One last glance over her shoulder, to be sure she wasn’t been followed, and she went inside.

Morgause was standing over the fire, her eyes glittering in the orange light. “Sister,” she said.

There was a silent question there; Morgana raised her chin, and answered. “Everything is going according to plan. Camelot will be ours by spring.”

Morgause at last raised her eyes from the fire. “You’ve done well. And have you been good?”

At first she hesitated, still shy, even after so much time. Then, slowly, Morgana lifted her skirts, bunching them about her waist. The bronze and polished leather of her belt glistened in the firelight. 

“Good girl,” Morgause murmured, running her fingers over the cool metal. “Good girl.” The spells within it sparked at her touch, unbroken. Morgana could break them – Morgause had taught her how, in case the need ever arose – but she never would. She would never disobey her sister.

At Morgause’s whispered word, the spells broke like a waxen seal, and Morgana breathed as she felt the belt slacken, the lock within giving way. Morgause eased the belt down her legs, letting it dangle about her knees, and ran her fingers across the damp flesh of Morgana’s thighs. She trembled, her fingers shaking where they gripped her skirts, but she held still. “You’ve been very good, sister,” said Morgause, “and you shall be rewarded.” She touched Morgana lightly under the chin, angling her face up, up to the roof of the cave.

Morgana looked upwards, and breathed as the metal of the belt chinked below her. She’d been so anxious the first time, anxious at being with another woman – not any woman, but her _sister_. But Morgause had made her see that this was right and proper. They were sisters, joined in mind and soul; why shouldn’t they be joined in body?

Morgause began to slide the belt back up, and Morgana braced herself for what she knew was coming, then made herself relax. The metal that pressed against her was oiled and warm from Morgause’s fingers, but still cool next to the hot flesh of her cunt. Morgause’s fingers dipped between her legs, angling it; then she pulled the belt into place and let metal slide into Morgana under its own weight.

Morgana squeezed her eyes shut, but stayed silent; Morgause hadn’t told her to not be silent. She relished the first few moments, while the metal was cold, before her body warmed it. It was a solid pressure inside her, stretching her out perfectly, as perfectly as if Morgause had cast it using her cunt as a mould.

Her sister cinched the straps tight, pushing it even deeper inside of her, and she bit her lip to keep herself from whimpering. Morgause’s hands were on hers, urging her to drop her skirts. They fell to the ground, concealing the belt from view, but Morgana could still feel it. She could barely feel anything else, anything but for the ground beneath her feet and the metal betwixt her legs and Morgause’s fingers upon her face. “There, now,” said Morgause. “Isn’t it sweet?”

It was; but not so sweet as Morgause’s kiss, soft upon her lips. 

“Will you sit with me, sister?” said Morgause. Morgana sat, the warming metal shifting inside of her, pressing against hot, dark places. She sat with Morgause beside the fire, and listened as Morgause talked, of their plans, of what she must do next; and as they talked, Morgause’s fingers trailed through Morgana’s hair, wrapping strands of it around and around her fingers; and as they talked, the metal seemed to grow hotter and hotter within her.

“I understand,” said Morgana. “I’ll see it done.”

“Good,” said Morgause. “Good.” Their business done, she pressed Morgana down upon the floor of the cave and began to work the straps loose, loose enough to get her hand inside. Her fingers clasped about the metal phallus. “My sweet sister,” she said as she began to work it in and out, her lips a scant inch from Morgana’s. “My sweet. Sing for me.”

Morgana felt herself clench about the metal; and she cried out.


End file.
